A Connoisseur of Beauty
by ilovetvalot
Summary: David Rossi has a problem...or, in his case, a serious lack of a problem. Can his old pal, Jimmy the Priest, help him see the light?


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**A Connoisseur of Beauty**

_**Grey's Anatomy: "What Have I Done to Deserve This?"**_

"So, Davey," Jimmy O'Malley greeted his old friend with a warm smile, "it's been a while."

"Too long," Dave agreed, nodding as he slid into the booth across from his decades-old best friend. The Profiler and the Priest, Dave mentally snorted, shaking his head at the pair they must be. What a hell of an unlikely duo, he chuckled privately to himself.

Of course, when their friendship had began all those years ago in Commack, New York, he certainly hadn't been a profiler. Just a fun-loving teenager bent on getting out of the old neighborhood any way possible.

And Jimmy? He'd been about as far from a man of God as any guy could get, boozing, brawling and bed-hopping his way through Little Italy..and a few of the other local hotspots in town. But, thirty-five years changed a fella...at least, it was supposed to.

Jimmy had found God, and he'd found the Bureau. And they'd all lived happily ever after, right?

If only.

Both men had seen more tragedy than either could stomach most days, and they both had the ulcers to prove it. Waving at the familiar bartender behind the polished counter, Dave watched as he quickly poured Dave's usual, handing it off to a pretty waitress and pointing toward their table.

A few minutes later, his fingers idly toying with the heavy leaden glass, filled with a finger's worth of Scotch, Dave sighed as Jimmy asked, "So, what gives, Davey?"

"Huh?"

"You call me out of the blue, tell me to meet you at Houlihan's to watch you play with your liquor?" Jimmy the priest said, nodding at Dave's fidgeting hand.

"I'm having a crisis of faith, Jimmy," Dave mumbled.

"Oh, boy," Jimmy moaned, rolling his eyes as he shook his head at his old friend. "What's her name?" his friend smirked, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. "It's not that girl you brought to the church a few months back, is it?"

"No, it's not," Dave grumbled, his fingers tracing patterns against the damp glass. "And it's not that kind of crisis," he growled defensively, taking another sip of the amber fluid in his glass, letting it slide smoothly down his throat.

"Oh, please, Davey. I've known you over thirty years," Jimmy muttered, leaning his head back against the top of the cushioned booth. "When hasn't it been about a woman?"

"Okay, maybe it is about a woman in a roundabout way," Dave shrugged, flushing as he realized just how right his old friend was. He truly hated being profiled by a man who could read not only his physical but spiritual condition. "But, it's not romantic. Really, it's not."

"I find that difficult to believe," Jimmy grunted, reaching for his beer with one hand as he eyed Dave.

"Believe it or not, it's true," Dave muttered, glancing around the bar self-consciously. Leaning forward, he did his best to keep his voice low as he admitted, tiredly, "The thing is, Jimmy, I'm getting old, I think."

"You think?" Jimmy chuckled, his eyes flashing with barely-disguised humor. "I've got news for you, Davey. We've BEEN old. We have for a while now," Jimmy noted dispassionately.

"And that doesn't bother you?" Rossi asked with widening eyes.

"Doesn't what bother me?" Jimmy asked with a small frown as he watched Dave's eyes darken.

"The fact that we've got more years behind us than we do in front of us," Rossi barked, throwing back another stiff drink, draining the glass and gesturing toward the bar for a refill. "And don't hand me that crap about our eternal lives beginning after the body perishes. I'm more concerned about this life in the here and now."

Leaning forward, Jimmy braced his elbows on the table in front of him. "Okay, Davey. Tell me the truth. What's this all about? Did one of those pretty young things at the Bureau turn you down for the newer, more improved version of yourself?"

"I wish," Dave muttered, abruptly closing his mouth as their young waitress dropped off another aged scotch.

"Is there anything else that I can get you, Agent Rossi?" she asked sweetly, her eyes narrowing with barely concealed interest, the well-known profiler and author a hot topic among the bar staff.

"Just the scotch," Dave replied, not bothering to even pretend interest. "Thanks," he added belatedly, his fingers already wrapped around the drink.

Watching the young woman walk away, Jimmy's jaw dropped. "Okay, either you're in love or you're dying. Because, that woman," he said, covertly pointing at the departing server, "was definitely giving you the come hither eyes. And any other day, you'd have jumped the table to climb aboard THAT train."

"I'm not in love, Jimmy. And as far as I know, I'm in good health," Dave replied, his voice low. Taking a surreptitious glance down his body, he muttered, "At least the majority of me is, I think."

"Would you drop the cryptic mumbo jumbo, asshole," Jimmy ordered impatiently, straining his ears to hear Dave. "And speak up. Unlike you, I'm goin' deaf in MY old age."

"I'd rather lose my ears than my erection," Dave blurted in frustration, the words spewing forth before he could recall them.

Eyes dilating as Dave's angry words suddenly registered, Jimmy shook his head dumbly. Right before he burst out laughing.

Offended, Dave glared at his friend, currently bent double, holding his side with one hand as he wiped tears of mirth on his collar with the other. "It is NOT even remotely funny."

"Davey," Jimmy gasped, trying to control his laughter, "I don't think you can blame age for this one. Overuse and abuse will do that to the little feller."

"You," Dave spat, his eyes flashing as he crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, "are a bad priest. Aren't you supposed to be soothing my spirit, providing a balm to my tormented soul?"

"I don't think they covered this in Seminary," Jimmy choked, breaking into a new gale of laughter in spite of his best efforts to remain supportive.

"Laugh it up, Dickhead," Dave mumbled as he took a healthy sip of the liquor once again. "Lucky for you, you don't even use that part. I do! Or, at least, I did," he added morosely.

Finally schooling his features into an appropriately sympathetic mask, Jimmy cleared his throat. "Maybe it's temporary. Age combined with stress and all that jazz."

"Jimmy, I'm surrounded by three of the most beautiful women your God ever put on this earth at work. Emily has legs for days, Jimmy. You've seen 'em," Dave began fervently, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the battered table as he stared at his so-called friend.

"I was actually more concerned for her soul at the time you introduced us, Davey," Jimmy pointed out, his lips twitching in barely-disguised amusement

"Well, I've concerned myself with the legs more than once. They're a work of art," Dave declared insistently. "JJ...oh, JJ," Rossi sighed, his lower jaw dropping at the thought, "Jimmy, you wouldn't believe the ass on this woman. You could bounce a quarter off it." Taking a quick gulp of his scotch, Dave swallowed before blurting, "And Garcia...Jimmy, the breasts on this woman could make even you look twice and rethink your calling. Their big and ..."

"I get it, Davey. Legs. Ass. Breasts. Davey's girls have all the right parts in awesome proportions. Nobody I know has ever denied that you're the connoisseur of beauty, my friend. You've sampled them all."

"But that's just it Jimmy!" Dave yelped, completely ignoring his friend's dry tone. "Nothing happens anymore down there," he complained, gesturing at his groin with a dejected flip of his wrist. "There's no gas in my pump...no wood in my forest...no..."

"I get it!" Jimmy interrupted with a grim wave of his hands, grimacing at Dave's euphemisms.

"Do you think this is God's punishment for all the carousing I've done over the years?" Dave whispered frantically, his eyes widening in sudden horror. "And if it is, how many Hail Mary's do I need to say to lift that curse? Name your penance, man!"

Taken aback at his friend's obvious anxiousness, Jimmy struggled to find words, finally saying, "Davey, I think God has more pressing matters than pissing on your penis parade, man."

Groaning, Dave buried his head in his hands. "What have I done to deserve this?" he moaned, massaging his temples with shaky fingers, visions of a monastic life flashing through his overtaxed mind.

"Besides screwing your way across the country for over two decades?" Jimmy asked conversationally, cocking one brow as he watched his friend slowly raise his head.

"Not. Helping," Dave replied narrowly.

"Look, Davey," Jimmy murmured, leaning back against the vinyl booth, forcing a serious note into his voice, "have you ever stopped to think that maybe your heart is trying to tell your body something? That maybe before you seek a deeper connection with another woman you ought to also have an emotional connection?"

"Does that sound like me, Jimmy," Dave asked sarcastically, pursing his lips as he gazed across the table at his older friend. Trust the man of God to bring emotions into a purely physical situation!

"It was worth a try," Jimmy said, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as he spoke silently to the God that obviously was obviously enjoying his friend's current predicament. Dropping his gaze back to his friend, he grinned. "Well, barring the emotional crap that you're oh so fond of," he said cheerily, "I have heard that the great scientists in the world have produced this new wonder drug in the form of a little blue pill," he confided with twinkling eyes. "I think it's called Viagra," he informed Dave gleefully, unable to resist the chuckle that escaped as he watched his friend's cheeks flush.

And as Dave met the merry eyes of his priestly pal, he decided he needed a better class of friends who didn't act like a fool! Friends that truly understood him! Some old guy had it right in the beginning when he had said, "Who does not love wine, women, and song, remains a fool his whole life long."

And, his old friend definitely qualified, Dave sighed. Oh, well. At least he still had his hair.

_**Finis**_


End file.
